


Like Poetry

by LamBams (forfitzsimmons)



Series: The Other 51 Hamilton Challenge [6]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Long-Distance Relationship, Love Letters, Poetry, jeffmads month 2k18
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-02
Updated: 2018-03-02
Packaged: 2019-03-26 04:01:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13849647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forfitzsimmons/pseuds/LamBams
Summary: Thomas gets a letter in the mail and falls in love a little more.





	Like Poetry

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies for the shitty poetry. This was written for JeffMads Month for Day 2: Long-Distance Relationships.

Thomas was inherently a morning person. He loved the slow rise of the sun over the horizon. He loved the cool morning breeze as heat grew until it felt like a warm embrace.

  
He was often loud enough to rival Hamilton. He was energetic enough for his boyfriend to compare him to an excited puppy. Not now, though, when the birds hadn’t woken up enough to begin tweeting at each other.

  
He sat at his kitchen table, nursing a cup of coffee just the way he liked it. He had a perfect view of the outside street from the window. Everything was perfect—or, it would be if his boyfriend were here.

  
James would still be asleep back in Virginia. His love was not a morning person; he could hardly be called a person in general if he hadn't had his customary three cups of coffee, but that was fine with Thomas. It meant he could enjoy snuggling with his sleepy boyfriend and stay in bed for awhile.

  
James wasn’t with him at the moment, though. Thomas has to be in France for the next two months for work and he would miss his boyfriend everyday during his stint in Paris despite his love of the country and its culture. There was just no way to match up to James.

  
He hasn't realized how long he'd been thinking about his boyfriend until he caught the mail truck on his street. He didn't get much of anything other than junk mail, but it was a good enough reason to stretch his legs. So, he slipped on his shoes and walked outside.

  
“Good morning, Mr. Jefferson!” the mailman, Francis, greeted him. He was a stocky fellow with a large smile and a misplaced Yankees cap. He held out a purple envelope. “You have an admirer today.”

  
“Mornin', Frankie. Is the letter from you?” he joked. He took the letter from him and smiled at the Virginian return address. The sender only said, ‘An Admirer' but he'd have to be stupid not to know who it was from.

  
“Looks like you already know who it's from. I have to get on with my route, so I'll see you tomorrow Mr. Jefferson.” Francis got back into the mail truck and drove away, but Thomas barely managed to wave at him.

  
Thomas didn't bother with the rest of the mail and choose to head back inside. He sat back down at the table and carefully opened the letter. It was in James' sprawling script.

  
_Dear Thomas,_

  
_Did I ever tell you I wrote poetry in college? I had the urge to do so again and decided I should write some for you, though it's hardly my best work. I'm a little rusty. I miss you a lot despite our Skype dates. I want you to know I think about you even though you're an ocean away._

  
Thomas hadn't even gotten to the poem yet and his heart was already swelling. James knew he was a hopeless romantic. Writing him poetry and sending it in an actual handwritten letter? That definitely qualified as romantic.

  
_You are an ocean away,_  
_Sitting at a table far_  
_From me,_  
_But I still see clearly_  
_The way your lips curl_  
_Up into a cradle_  
_To hold me._  
_I still have the phantom_  
_Feeling of your hand in mine,_  
_Soft and warm like velvet._  
_I still know the sound_  
_Of your laugh, like chimes_  
_Or bells, or maybe the call_  
_Of the ocean that separates us._  
_Still, I know, like I know_  
_The touch of your lips_  
_Against mine,_  
_That you will return_  
_And I will be complete once more._

_Love,_  
_James_

  
It was totally overdramatic and unnecessary, but Thomas felt tears drip down his face. Maybe it wasn’t the best poem in the world, but any other poet could suck it. His James wrote a poem about how much he missed Thomas and it made his heart beat faster and his smile turn into a grin.

  
An idea popped into Thomas' head and he immediately approved it. He still had a while before work. He grabbed some paper and his best pen.

  
_Dear Jemmy…_

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact: Madison did actually write poetry in college. He used it to roast the hell out of another student in a competing society (the Whigs I think?). He smacked the kid real hard with his poem and it's amazing.


End file.
